


Another Life, Another Time

by GingerItt, missbeizy



Category: Glee RPF
Genre: F/M, Fluid Sexuality, M/M, Multi, Poly!verse, Polyamory, Pregnancy, RPF, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-11
Updated: 2013-10-11
Packaged: 2017-12-29 02:20:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,569
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/999716
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GingerItt/pseuds/GingerItt, https://archiveofourown.org/users/missbeizy/pseuds/missbeizy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Poly!verse AU future!fic (set about ten years down the line) in which Chris, Darren, Will, and Mia decide to get pregnant.  Chris finds himself developing a physical attraction to Mia as a result of the whole idea.  This story carries them from conception--with a focus on Chris and Mia's burgeoning sexual relationship--to the birth of their child.  The usual poly relationship stuff applies.</p><p>Warnings for: sexuality exploration beyond the usual in terms of Chris and pregnancy/baby stuff.</p><p>Again, this is <b>not</b> canon for the verse.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Another Life, Another Time

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is an AU of [yanks02](http://yanks02.tumblr.com/) and I's poly verse.
> 
> I've had so many conversations about all the various ways a relationship like this might go--one in particular which gingeritt and I had that started to get so complex we decided what the heck, let's write it! It's indulgent and a little silly and sometimes sappy, but I really like it as a representation of the "what if" nature of the poly verse; there are elements of it that would definitely not appear in the poly verse canon at all.
> 
> I had so much fun doing this with [gingeritt](http://gingeritt.tumblr.com), I have to say; she's a pleasure and a delight! And thanks to yanks02 for letting me cheat on her a little... ;)

They date for six years, all told, before they decide to get pregnant, and it’s Mia who starts the conversation over breakfast one morning. She’s got a mouthful of cornflakes and doesn’t wait to swallow before saying the words that will change their lives forever.

“I want to have a baby.”

Darren chokes on his eggs. Will stops chewing and stares at her. Chris feels an instant migraine begin just above his brow.

It’s six months later when they’re all finally decided and the decision hadn’t been made lightly. They all want to be parents to varying degrees and for various reasons, but it’s not something that’s simple when there’s three possible fathers. They talk about going the clinical route and just mixing their sperm and going for artificial insemination.

And then Darren says, “Fuck that. We have, collectively, the hottest sex in the western hemisphere. Figure out when she’s dropping an egg, I’ll bring the extra special lube, and we’ll have a fucking orgy.”

Mia cracks up so badly that she can’t answer him, but Will and Chris exchange shrugs and smiles.

It’s really not that bad of an idea, except for—

Well, Chris is really kind of one hundred and ten percent gay. He loves Mia, fiercely enough to want her as a semi-platonic wife, but not in the way that she’d need him to perform.

They go out on a date night alone together—a drag show, two pitchers of sangria—and she engages him about it for the first time since they decided they were at least going to start trying.

“You want to be in on the daddy pool, I know,” she says, their fingers tangled on the sticky tabletop. “But you can just jerk off in a cup, honey. Or…we can go the turkey baster route at home. I’m not picky. I want you to be a part of this without having to be uncomfortable.”

“I don’t want it like that, though,” Chris replies, a little drunk. “I want—I never thought I would even be a biological father, and if I’m going to get a shot I want—I want to do this for real, I want to—want to play the same role as Darren and Will.”

They’ve managed a variety of ways to have intimacy over the years—cuddling and kissing are fine. If they’re inebriated or relaxed enough she can usually sneak a handjob or a blowjob past his boundaries, but only if they’re with Darren and/or Will at the same time. He really is not attracted to women at all, and the one time he tried to fuck her he’d been unable to finish. It’s never bothered her. She loves him just as fiercely as she loves Darren and Will, and has no issue with the fact that his sexuality keeps them from certain things.

“Well,” she replies, taking a deep breath. “I’m ovulating from the thirteenth to the sixteenth this month. I want you there no matter what. We’ll figure something out and if you want—we can try.” She tucks her head up under his chin with a sigh. “I love you, sweetie. You know that, right?”

“Of course,” he replies, sliding his arms around her waist. “I love you, too.”

*

It’s almost impossible to not get aroused watching them fuck her. There’s nothing specific about it and there doesn’t need to be—Darren fucks her first, simple missionary position, her legs around his waist, his gorgeous body pounding away between her thighs. Chris has seen it a thousand times and it’s just as hot as it always is, so long as he focuses on Darren’s body.

As soon as he comes Will takes his place, kissing Mia for a while before pushing inside, making Darren’s come leak out of her as he groans and fills her all the way. By the time he’s done Darren has managed to get hard again, and they go back and forth like this for literally days, pressing their semen back inside of her when they can’t do it anymore, kissing her and making her come as she lies there sweaty and sobbing and shaking apart over and over.

On the last day of her ovulation Chris is the first to get to bed—Darren and Will are in the shower—and he lies down next to her and kisses her hair and holds her for a while.

He manages to get up the courage after several minutes of tense silence.

“I want to try,” he says, rubbing her soft belly and thinking about it, really thinking about it, about maybe getting to be the biological father, even though he knows it’s not a competition and he won’t feel any differently if the child turns out to look like either Darren or Will.

“Do you want to be alone or…?” she asks, glancing at the bathroom door.

“Can we start like this, and maybe see what happens when they come in?” Chris asks, and she nods.

It’s weird, kissing with a purpose. There have been times when they’ve just wanted to make out and be intimate and they’ve kissed—they’re both pretty tactile people, actually, and she loves that she can kiss him and have there be no urgency, no demand, just the kissing and the hugging and that’s it—but not like this. Not in bed, not side by side with her fingers gently scratching up and down his back and their legs tangled together.

She’s wearing a tank top and men’s boxers and he’s wearing his briefs and he can feel the warmth of her through their underwear and for just a second he thinks he’s going to have to stop because he just can’t get excited about what’s beneath her underwear and he wants to, for her sake, but—her breasts are pushing against his chest and she just feels all wrong, and shit—

“Hey,” she whispers, dragging her teeth along his bottom lip. “Just like we always do. No pressure, okay? Just let me make you feel comfortable.”

He relaxes after that, letting their tongues meet and falling into the sensation of her touches, which never make him nervous—she’s dominant by nature but always exactly what he needs her to be when they’re together and right now there’s no power play between them, just sweet physical affection, the kind that always feels good after a rough week.

By degrees, he feels some brand of arousal flare in his belly, make the skin of his cock flush and begin to tighten. It’s not that he’s never gotten hard making out with her—it’s just physical stimuli and he’s only human. It’s just that it never goes anywhere. He never wants it to. The desire is lacking, and her parts are wrong, but tonight—well. He’s invested. A part of him does want to, and kissing her is no different than kissing Will or Darren, really.

And then her fingers start turning soft little circles over his hips and thighs and he moans breathlessly against her lips. He can feel her smile.

“Mmm, you feel so good,” she murmurs, rubbing his belly, his navel, then tugging the soft hair between there and his pelvis.

He knows that Will and Darren are watching them from the doorway, but it feels curiously distant tonight. They do a lot of watching of each other all the time, but usually not in this configuration.

Something about that makes him bolder—he rolls over on top of her, feeling a surge of confidence. He kisses her and god—like that, his cock digging between her legs, it feels—good. Her body feels good, her mouth under his feels good, the little surprised squeak she makes when he puts his tongue in her mouth and presses her down into the bed feels good. He always did get a rush out of being in control, and this fits the bill.

“Fuck,” Darren whispers to Will.

Will says nothing. He’s too busy staring like an idiot, cock tenting the towel around his waist.

He thinks that if it were Will or Darren in his place they’d take her top off. But that—that might be too much right now. He rubs their bodies together, feeling her thighs spread for him, feeling the knot of concentrated heat between her legs seek the hard bulge between his.

It feels weird. It’s so weird, softness and warmth instead of insistent hardness against his cock.

Weird is not really the worst thing right now, though.

What gets him—what keeps him throbbing against her—is that she’s turned on. He likes her turned on. There’s something genderless about arousal, her flushed face and swollen lips and blown pupils. He likes the way she smells and her soft off-rhythm breathing and her fingers squeezing down his shoulders and back. He likes making her happy, and he focuses on that as she rubs up against him, clearly interested in what his body has to offer. He likes that she wants him in that specific way, even if he can’t return the favor one hundred percent.

“Chris,” she whimpers, hips arching off of the bed. “Baby, can I touch you?”

“Yeah,” he breathes, shaking as she reaches between them and pushes his briefs down around his thighs. God, he’s so hard, and it’s amazing, he’s never felt this urgency before with her, and the excitement kind of snowballs on itself. When she begins stroking him he reacts as he would if it were a man’s hand there, gasping and bucking down into her fingers, hips jolting. “Oh my god, Mia—”

They’re both breathing so hard, pulses pounding, arousal surging and fuck, it’s never been like that before, never—

“I—” He looks down at her, all brown eyes and dark streaked hair and her mouth so pink and wet and trembling. “I should get you—I should—fuck, show me how—”

She wriggles under him, working the boxers down off of her legs without letting go of his cock. He can see her nipples, hard as rocks, straining her tank top, can see the pounding of the pulse at her throat, as she guides his cock between her thighs. “Later, okay?” she whimpers.

“I can do it,” Chris says, glancing down her body, taking in her soft stomach and small thighs and the trimmed hair around her pussy. It doesn’t excite him, but it’s not taking away from his arousal, so that’s—good.

She’s trembling again, rubbing the shaft of his cock against her smooth thighs. “It’s not that.” She whimpers, pressing the head of his dick against her pussy, and fuck—she’s soaked, and radiating heat like nothing Chris has ever felt before. “I just—god, Chris, I want you inside of me, I want it so bad—want you to fuck me so much, shit, fuck—”

Oh, god. Oh god she—she just wants him.

That does something to him that he can’t even describe. His cock pulses in her hand. He can feel fluid leak out of the tip, smearing against her pubic hair.

Shit.

“So turned on for you right now, fuck, need to come around your cock,” she whimpers, pressing up against him. “Please?”

He doesn’t think about it. He just presses her legs apart and pushes his cock inside of her, feeling the slippery soaked folds of her pussy give way. Fuck it’s so easy, the glide is almost unfairly perfect, and then tight clench of her walls around him like a fist. It’s not nearly as gross as he’d imagined it might be, all that slippery wetness, all those messy folds of flesh, it’s just—good. It feels good.

He laughs in surprise, the noise bursting like verbal pleasure from his lips, dying on hers. “Oh my god.”

She whines, tossing. “Don’t hold back. Just fuck me, sweetheart. Fuck me hard.”

He can’t get caught up in the mechanics or he won’t be able to do this for her, so he does as she asks and just lets go and fucks into her the way he’d fuck into Darren or Will if they were ready for him; fast, hard, and steady, and he doesn’t even really notice her hand between them playing over her clit at all. She’s so elastic, her pussy clamping like a throat around him, the inside of her warm and wet and throbbing like a heartbeat.

It’s not so different. And he loves her. And—

He’s going to come in her. Come in her and fill her with it and maybe make her pregnant with it and her little belly might be all swollen up with his baby and—

Oh, fuck. Oh fuck he’s going to come in her.

He presses his face into her hair and pounds into her, something inside of him just letting go.

He tries to last as long as he can, and he thinks he feels her come at least twice—she goes a little wild with her fingers lashing over her clit and he feels her body clamp and pulse, and she’s sobbing and then crying out, her hips churning into his, their bellies grinding together.

“Close?” she asks, panting in his ear.

“Fuck,” Chris hisses, shifting forward on his knees and pounding into her. She’s so wet. “Oh, fuck, yes, fuck—”

She clamps down hard around him. “Come on. That’s it. Come in me. Give me all that come.”

White explodes behind his eyelids as his orgasm tears through him, as he empties inside of her.

He shakes for minutes without relief, clutching her and going soft inside of her. He feels—like his skin has been flayed off, exposed and naked and wet and open, and her arms around him feel good, feel safe, so he stays there, nuzzling into her sweaty hair and feeling her throb around him. God, it’s so weird, it’s—so much more active inside than an anus, the way that it pulses and slicks.

She kisses his hairline over and over and over, her fingers clutching his shoulder blades.

“Okay?” she whispers.

“I love you,” he says, shivering.

“Oh, honey. I love you, too. So much.”

He feels the bed dip with their partners’ weight, Darren on the left and Will on the right, feels the gentle glide of Will’s hands, and something in that just breaks him, and he feels tears spill down his cheeks as Mia lets him go and nudges him away. He tucks himself into Will’s arms and cries silently and softly, buried against his neck as Darren gently wraps himself around Mia.

“Are you okay?” Will asks, eyes wide with concern.

The thing is—he’s almost too okay. He feels wonderfully overwhelmed, like a bruised peach only inside and outside and all over. He kind of just wants to keep crying and clinging to Will and so he does.

“Do you want to take him to your bedroom for the night?” Mia asks Will.

Chris shakes his head. “No, I’m fine in here. I just need a minute.”

They settle down with water bottles, cuddling in pairs until the moment slowly passes. Chris stops shaking and Mia falls asleep in Darren’s arms and Darren looks over at them, gobsmacked.

“What brought that on?” he asks.

“I dunno,” Chris says, eyes bright with tears, rimmed in red. “I just—wanted to. It felt—good, but, like, a lot?”

Will won’t stop kissing his neck skin, wherever he can reach. “As long as you wanted to, and you enjoyed it, we just—don’t want you to perform, it shouldn’t be about that.”

“It’s not,” he says, shivering. “I—think I liked it. It felt nice.”

He naps tucked against Will’s chest, feeling utterly drained. He wakes up hours later only because Darren is moaning and cursing, Mia riding him on the far side of the bed, her hands on the headboard and his fingers digging into her fleshy hips.

Chris’ face flushes as he watches her come down around Darren’s cock over and over again, until she growls and curses and he comes inside of her, ass off the bed, heels digging into the blankets, and flips her onto her back, pushing deep inside.

“Keep it in there,” he groans, pushing her legs up, her knees almost all the way to her ears. “Keep all that come in your tight little pussy.”

“Fuck,” she hisses, rubbing her clit. “Fuck, keep fucking me, stay hard, fuck—”

He does, for several impressive minutes, until she’s come.

Chris feels a twinge in his dick that he’s never felt before watching her, and isn’t surprised when Will’s hand finds him hard between his thighs. He can feel Will grin against his neck.

“Mm, I have no complaints if all of this leads to you hard more often,” he says, and Chris smirks and turns and kisses him.

“Not hard enough for you, old man?”

“I will never complain about more erections,” he replies, jerking Chris slowly. “If I do, you have my permission to put my ass out to pasture.”

“I have so many better uses for your ass,” Chris says, grinning as he rolls over on top of Will.

*

Two months later, she misses a second period in a row, goes to the doctor, and comes home. She waits until everyone is comfortable and fed and tells them—and it’s a mess. They’re all screaming and hugging each other and crying and Will is already flushing the alcohol down the toilet and Darren mock-whining about the loss of weed but they’re all giggling and elated and it doesn’t matter because they’re going to have a baby.

She has a quiet moment with each of them privately as the weeks go by. Darren takes her shopping and Will makes her Skype his mom and sister to tell them the good news and Chris—

Chris spends a lot of time at his laptop writing, which is his way of letting her know that he needs some time to himself, despite it all. And then after a few weeks he starts asking questions. And then he starts ordering baby books. Before long he has become the librarian of the pregnancy, and then he insists on attending every one of her doctor’s appointments. He’s never far—always there, always willing to go out and get her whatever random thing she might want.

He’s affectionate and wonderful and Will and Darren struggle to keep things even because he’s almost going above and beyond some days, and they all still have to work.

It’s when she begins to show that Chris gets even more intense.

“You look so beautiful today,” he’ll say, passing her in the kitchen in the morning or even at night after dinner, and she smiles and ruffles his hair and says thanks.

Or he’ll give her gifts without any prompting or need, leaving little things for the baby, for her, comfort items and luxury things that she likes to wear or eat, in places where he knows she’ll find them.

One evening he has a beer or two with Thai takeout. They’re alone and he’s rubbing her feet in his lap and staring at the tiny, tiny swell of her belly under her shirt.

“I think the baby is mine,” he blurts. “I mean, it’s all of ours. But I think—I think I’m the biological father.”

She smiles. Laughs, because Will and Darren have both said the same, and she finds it kind of hilarious—there’s no competition, it’s just such a male thing that she has to giggle.

“No, I mean it,” he insists, running his fingers up her ankles. “I am positive.”

“It doesn’t matter, love,” she says, putting a hand to her stomach. “All that matters is that this is going to be the most spoiled little brat who ever lived.”

Chris grins, leans over the sofa and kisses her. “That is true.” It feels nice, and he’s loose from the beer, so he does it again, and she smiles and lets him and then sits back.

But he kind of wants more, so he leans on his hands and knees over her and pushes his fingers through her hair, tilting her face up into his for a longer, sweeter kiss.

“Cheater,” she breathes, pushing against his chest. “Pregnancy hormones. Play nice.”

He feels weird for just a second, flushed and a little turned on. He normally wouldn’t equate much about her body with hard on, but her nipples are pushing against her t-shirt and her cheeks are red and he kind of wants—to make her feel good, more than he cares about their weird boundaries. He reaches down and gently cups her breast, dragging the pad of his thumb across her nipple.

She goes still, staring at him. “Chris?”

“Is this okay?” he asks, squeezing the pliant flesh. It’s—weird. But he likes the way she looks and the sounds she makes when he does it. A lot.

“Um,” she replies, chest rising and falling unevenly. “If you want that, then yes it’s—very okay.”

He kisses her again, feeling her mouth part and go damp around his upper lip, and begins inexpertly rubbing her nipples and breasts in his hands. He sort of never notices just how huge his hands are until they’re on her and she’s so tiny in comparison.

He presses her back into the sofa and keeps kissing her, pinching her nipples and letting his right thigh find a home in between her legs. He doesn’t realize how thoroughly they’re making out until she starts rubbing up against his leg, hot as a brand, her breath coming in little jolts and her neck under his searching mouth.

“God, Chris,” she whines. “Are you—fuck, honey, you sure you’re not just drunk on me?”

He licks a strip down the front of her shirt, closes his teeth around her clothed nipple and bites down softly. It’s—kind of just happening, and he doesn’t feel too weird. “I’m—good, I think.”

She rubs against his leg. “Shit. Um. What did you have in mind?”

“I want to get you off,” he blurts, then freezes when her eyes go wide. “Fingers, maybe, to start? Not sure if I’m ready for—” He stares down between her legs, feeling intimidated and a little lost. He’s never even really thought about pussy before her.

She shimmies out of her sweatpants and panties and then tugs him back over her body halfway, leaving room for him to get his arm down her front and for them both to lie comfortably. She’s—naked, and that’s something that he usually doesn’t see quite so up close, at least not while lying almost on top of her, anyway.

It’s weird. He starts to say something, but she just kisses him and his fingers fan out over her belly. God, that little swell is mesmerizing, he just wants to stare at it and kiss it all day, and—

She’s glistening wet through her pubic hair, her little clit not so little anymore, stiff and poking out of her dusky pink labia.

“Are you always so, um, wet, so fast?” he asks, staring. “I mean—it’s flattering, ha, but, I thought women had all sorts of—warm up, I mean, a lot of—foreplay?”

Her hips tilt as his thick, long fingers drift between her legs. “Uhm. Honestly? You—this—fuck. You turn me on so much. You always have, I mean, but I never thought about us like this, not until recently, and—”

He presses his fingers down over her heat, holding his breath as the warm slickness parts for him. Jesus. She’s dripping, so wet that he has to pull back or his fingers would just sink into her.

“Show me what to do?” he asks, breathless.

She shows him the angle and the pressure she likes, then puts his thumb against her clit and shows him how to touch it, how to keep it pinned under the fold of the hood. He’s a fast learner—no surprise there—and determined as hell to do it right. He has a feeling that she’s so turned on that it wouldn’t matter if he did it perfectly—she’s all too capable of doing more than her share when it comes to getting herself off with any and all of them—but it’s nice to feel how much she enjoys him in that moment.

“Okay,” she breathes, as he kisses her neck and earlobe and shoulder, rubbing her deep and slow the way she left his fingers. “Okay now just—speed up, slowly, just—more, okay? I’ll tell you when to slow down if I want you to.”

“Okay,” he breathes, shivering. She’s slippery and hot and tight around his fingers and he stares down, a little in awe, at the sight of his hand spread over her pussy, at how his fingers glisten with her wetness when he pulls them out. Her clit is swollen and pink and—kind of like a tiny dick, and he’ll admit that that gets to him, especially when he thumbs it fast and hard and she cries out and twitches all over.

“God,” she pants, pelvis churning jagged, desperate circles. “Oh god I’m so close already, your fingers are—perfect—don’t stop.”

It takes a lot longer than he’s used to but that’s okay; it’s not much work at all, he just keeps doing what she tells him to do and she gets wetter and hotter and tighter and then she falls apart, pulsing and throbbing around his fingers, grasping his arm in a death grip and crying out to the ceiling.

God. So gorgeous, why did he ever think that a woman coming was gross, how did he ever…?

He guesses it has more to do with her than all women, but—

She’s shaking and sweaty against his side, kissing him again and again. “That was so nice, god.”

He feels pretty fucking accomplished, actually. He can make her come, he can—they can do this, and he wants to do it, and it’s awesome. And shit, he’s—hard, digging into her hip.

“Can I return the favor?” she asks, biting her lip and staring at him with those pretty eyes and fuck, they so rarely go there, and never without Will or Darren, but—

“Could I fuck you?” he asks, pressing his knee between hers. He flushes when she reaches down to unbutton his jeans and push them around his hips. “Um. Is that okay, with the baby?”

“It’s completely safe right now, yes,” she answers, grinning, almost laughing as she tugs him on top of her and kisses him. “Are you sure? I could just jerk you off, or suck you—”

He shivers. He kind of just wants to be inside of her, and he can’t explain why.

It takes an embarrassingly short amount of time, her legs around his back and her face tucked up into his throat, her breathing coming in desperate pants as he tries to go slow, tries to make her enjoy it, too, the pump of his cock in and out of her sloppy pussy. He waits for her to reach down to touch herself and then replaces her fingers over her clit with his own.

She gasps, “Oh, okay, oh.”

He pinches her clit and begins rubbing it in a rapid little circles and he waits, and waits, and waits, his hips rocking, grinding his cock deep inside her and waiting for her to spasm. It feels ridiculously good when she does, clamping and pounding around him, and he can’t wait after that, comes in her pussy with a low gasp when her fingers close around his ass cheek and squeeze.

“Next time I want to get my fingers in you,” she says, biting at his jaw. “Get at that tight little hole while you get at mine.”

He shudders, cock twitching inside of her. Shit. Shit.

After that, it’s unpredictable as hell, but the one thing that’s static is that it stays. He can’t stop getting drawn in by her, in ways that he never has before, and it confuses him as much as it satisfies him.

Darren and Will notice. Will is the first to bring it up, and like everything Will does it’s casual and accepting and all he does is tell Chris that if he and Mia need some time alone to adjust to their new intimacy to just let him know and he’ll get Darren out of the house. Darren shrugs and smiles and kisses Chris, their fingers laced as they cuddle up in the hot tub alone one night.

“I’ll admit, I didn’t expect that,” he admits, adjusting himself on Chris’ knees. “But it’s—it feels right, I guess? Fuck, I don’t know, man. Sexuality is bullshit. We’re all happy, so that’s all I care about.”

Chris isn’t quite sure if this has anything to do with sexuality. He thinks it might just be—her. But he can’t be sure, and it doesn’t seem to matter.

“We love what Mia getting pregnant has done to you, man,” Darren adds, kissing him again. “You’re—loose and happy and proud and that’s all good shit.”

He likes it, he does. He likes that they approve, that it seems to have made them all come closer together. He loves that when he’s with Will alone—as he often is—that Will is smiling brighter and more affectionate because Chris himself is happier.

He likes that Darren slowly adjusts to sharing Mia more, in the same way that Chris had to adjust to sharing Will in the early days when Will had fallen hard for Darren and spent more time staring at him and fucking him and sweet talking him for the span of a few months than he did doing the same with Chris.

Being in love with three people at the same time hasn’t been all smooth sailing for any of them, and during the adjustment years it had taken a lot to get over those bonding periods. They’d come into this relationship as two couples and had so much ground to cover, allowing themselves to fall in love with each other gently, forgivingly, all while navigating domestic life, work schedules, and sexual boundaries.

But sometimes it’s simple, frighteningly so, and even though Chris wants to analyze it and compartmentalize it, it just sort of takes over.

He’ll be watching Mia eat chips at the kitchen counter wearing one of their button downs and her panties and nothing else, and she’ll turn a certain way and make the shirt go tight over her stomach and then he has to kiss her, pin her to the counter and stroke her stomach until she’s laughing and breathless.

And now he can’t stop himself from going farther. From pressing his fingers between her legs and rubbing her, kissing the back of her neck and savoring the surprised thrill that runs through her body.

“Chris,” she whispers, mock-scandalized as well as turned on, and he grins into hair.

“Mia,” he answers, working the mound of her pussy with his whole hand.

“It’s noon, and the boys are home,” she breathes. She knows they can be heard easily from the next room—the television is on fairly low.

“You look so hot right now,” he admits, his voice higher pitched than hers as he slides his hand down the front of her panties and cups her, pressing his cock against the dip of her lower back.

She turns to look at him, eyes wide, “Christopher Paul.”

“Shh, just keep—doing what you were doing,” he says, rubbing his fingers up and down her slit. He lowers his voice, trying not to rut too selfishly against her as she starts to go warm and damp under his fingertips. He presses her clit and begins working it in circles, holding her against the kitchen counter, his free hand stroking the curve of her pregnant belly. “Just wanna make you come.”

“Oh my god,” she breathes, thighs spreading around his hand. “Oh, fuck, Chris.”

He knows that Darren and Will can hear them, and it only makes him harder. He doesn’t stop her when she reaches back and pushes her hand down his shorts, only gasps and adjusts himself so that she can get at him as neatly as he is getting at her.

He loses himself in the determined effort to get her off, ignoring her hand on him until she comes, shuddering and whimpering, her hot smooth thighs clamping around his hand. She dribbles a little, making his fingers wet as she comes again, and he gently pushes two fingers inside of her, working her tight walls.

“Can I make you come inside?” he breathes, unfocused because she’s jacking his cock fast and hard, and he’s so close to coming down the front of his underwear.

She shifts around, re-adjusts his fingers and hitches her body against the counter and starts fucking herself on the digits, bent over and desperate. “Yes, fuck, just keep, in and out, like that, oh shit, baby—feel so good.”

God. He has her bent over the counter taking his fingers like it was nothing, and he’s half hanging out of his shorts, the head of his cock dripping all over her hand, her nails painted bright and gleaming against his pale skin and the pink of his dick. He wants to come all over her bare ass, so he pushes her panties down around her knees.

She squeaks, angling him lower, apparently on board with the idea.

“Right there,” she whimpers, back going tight and her free hand flailing for the handle on the cabinet closest to her arm. “Oh fuck right there, keep fucking me right there.”

It’s a different texture—sort of rough and grainy and oh shit, he just discovered the g-spot. The excitement of success washes through him and he can’t help it, just as she comes with a shout he spurts in her fist, shooting pearly white all over her tight, round ass cheeks and the small of her back.

“Oh my god,” he breathes, clutching her hips, shaking with the intensity of the orgasm.

“Jesus Christ,” she replies, and he wraps his arms around her tiny waist to hold her up as her knees wobble.

*

It had been bound to happen at some point. It's just a fact of being pregnant and Mia wakes up almost every morning wondering if this would be the day.

She'd been lucky during her first trimester, only feeling sick a few mornings a week or in response to certain smells. She’d also been horny as all get out which the boys were more than happy to help her with. Her body hadn’t changed that much so she was making due with her usual wardrobe of leggings and flowy tops and dresses. The only article of clothing she's purposely gone out to buy is a belly band but that's more for the months to come than the present. Her bump is just that, a little bump that stretches the waistband of her pants but nothing more. Chris had commented that Mia looked more  
“with sandwich” than “with child”. The biggest change so far has been the pregnancy boobs that had arrived last month and knocked out about half of her dresses.

But that morning, she wakes up alone and begins dressing for her day. She vaguely remembers Darren slipping out of bed when it was still dark out to head to work, kissing her forehead and her shoulder sweetly before leaving. Chris is in New York for a meeting with his publisher and Will had left last night for a friend's bachelor party in San Francisco. She has a big production meeting in a few hours that she has to be at.

She blindly pulls a clean pair of leggings out of a drawer and tugs them on.

The elastic band immediate rolls under her bump that isn't a bump anymore with a snap. She's popped. It is to be expected; she is eighteen weeks along, almost halfway there but she hadn't expected it to be so sudden.

She rips the leggings off and pulls out another pair, with a thicker waistband. The same thing happens. She considers a dress but as she looks over those hanging in her closet, her heart sinks. Between the boobs and the belly, none of the ones that would fit are even close to being work appropriate.

Defeated, she flops back on the bed and begins to cry.

*

They've broken for lunch when Darren's phone rings from a number he doesn't recognize. Juggling a plate of chicken with one hand and a giant cup of lemonade in the other, he somehow manages to answer it. Generally, he lets unknown numbers go straight to voicemail but with both Will and Chris out of town, he figures it might be one of them.

"Hello?"

"Darren, it's Cole; I work with Mia."

Darren freezes. Mia’s coworkers would only call him if there was an emergency. "Is everything okay?"

"I was going to ask you that. Mia never came in and she missed a production meeting. Celeste said she might have an OB/GYN appointment but she's not answering our calls or texts." Cole sounds genuinely concerned and Darren tries to remember if she did have an appointment.

"No. If she did, I'd know." He hangs up, promising to let Cole know if anything is wrong.

Passing his plate to a friend, he sprints to his trailer and grabs his keys and wallet before flagging down an AD to let them know what's going on. Normally, he'd feel guilty about leaving set early but he's been sitting around all morning.

Family comes first.

Always.

*

Mia is very surprised to see Darren rushing into her bedroom.

“Mia--what’re you--are you--the baby?” he huffs out, climbing onto the bed beside her, turning her to face him. She rolls away, hiding her tear-stained face under her hair and her hands. “Honey, what’s going on? Cole called me. They’re really worried about you.”

“I’m fat.”

Those two words hang in air like a dark cloud and Darren honestly doesn’t know what to say in response. Mia has always been comfortable in her own skin, not caring if she gained or lost a few pounds, so it's a surprise for him to hear her say that. She’d put up with a lot of people making comments about her body, dismissing them with a shrug and an eye roll. She liked her body and that was what mattered, not the opinion of some random person on Twitter.

“No, you’re not,” he tells her. “You’re pregnant.”

“Same thing. Look,” she says, rolling onto her back.

She’s definitely bigger than she was. Her top half is clothed in an old t-shirt of Will’s and she's not wearing anything on the bottom but panties. Darren gently places his hand on her belly, feeling the smooth, taut skin beneath the worn cotton.

It shouldn’t turn him on, but it does.

“You’re beautiful,” he whispers in her ear, kissing her temple. “And sexy.”

She rolls her eyes at him. “Shut up, goober. I’m gross.”

Darren sighs, sitting up. He knows her well enough that there has to be something else bothering her. “What’s really going on?”

“What’s going on is I have a gigantic fetus subsisting off of my body and--” She chokes back a sob. “What if after the baby comes I’m covered in stretch marks and flab and you three are still perfect, gorgeous specimens?”

He quirks an eyebrow at her. “Do you think any of that would matter to us? I can only speak for myself but, personally, I don’t care if you leave all the weight in the delivery room or it takes years for you to get back to your pre-baby weight.”

“Darren--” she begins but he leans over and silences her with a kiss.

“I mean it.” He crawls on top of her, hovering, careful not to put too much weight on the baby. “My love for you has very little to do with your body. Yeah, I think you’re smoking hot and I love how your body looks and responds to me and Will and Chris, but I’m way more in love with your sense of humor and kindness than your boobs or pussy.” She giggles, wiping tears off her cheeks. “And your boobs and pussy are pretty awesome, so that’s saying something.”

“What about Chris?”

There it is.

The real issue.

He’s confident that Will feels the same way as him but Chris is the wildcard of the three. With all the changes to the dynamics of their relationship in just a few months, it’s honestly a fair question and it’s one that leaves him stumped. Chris insists that it’s Mia that he’s attracted to, not women in general and Darren believes him. But he also doesn’t want Mia to be hurt if after the baby comes Chris’ physical interest in her wanes.

“Honey, I can’t--you’ll have to talk to him about that.” He kisses his way down her body, before settling between her thighs. “But let me show you just how fucking sexy I think you are.”

“What--What’re you doing?” she asks, leaning up on her elbows. Hooking his fingers under the band of her underwear, he pulls them down her legs and tosses them aside. “You’re in costume.”

“Don’t care. They’ll just swap it out. No one will notice.” They both know he’s wrong about that. He places her thighs on his shoulder and comes in close, pressing his mouth and nose to her pussy and takes a deep breath. She’s so sweet to taste. He and Will had had an hour long conversation once about how good she tasted that ended with them having to give each other handjobs.

Threading their fingers together, he begins to swirl his tongue over her clit.

“Darren--” she whines. He smiles against her, the tip of his tongue tracing up and down the folds of her labia. “You--work--”

“I’m not leaving until you come for me,” he tells her. She nods and relaxes on the mattress, gasping as his lips close around her clit and suck softly. Letting go of one of her hands, he slides his middle finger inside her and crooks it up. She gasps and presses against his mouth, taking him a bit deeper.

*

It's early on when they decide to not find out the sex of the baby. It doesn't really matter to them either way and Mia makes it clear to her doctor that unless there is a medical reason to tell them, they don't want to know.

Of course, this doesn't mean that they don't have opinions about it; Mia and Will are Team Boy and Darren and Chris are Team Girl.

They'd started a running list of names that are absolute no's; any characters from any of their projects (Will sighs dejectedly when the other three outvote him on that; he's loved the name Imogene since he was a kid) and any names of people that drive them up the wall (various coworkers/bosses/exes).

The list gets so long that they have to scrap it and instead they institute The Name Jar. It sits on the island in their kitchen, a clear glass jar from Costco that once held kalamata olives that Mia and Darren had consumed in one weekend (a long story that neither of them feel inclined to repeat often, thank you very much). Now, with a slit poked into the lid, it holds all of their suggestions.

Once a week, usually after Sunday dinner, they sit around the island and pull the names out and vote whether to keep them in consideration or not. All the ones with three or more votes get added to list in the binder that Chris has been using to keep track of the baby's growth and as many of Mia's variables as she will tell him. Two votes gets a name put back in the jar and one or no votes gets it dumped.

"Malcolm," Will reads as Darren refills his wine glass. Chris raises his hand but Mia makes a face and Will takes a sip of wine. Darren shrugs indifferently.

"Ugh, fine, trash it," Chris says as Will balls up the scrap of paper and tosses it in the garbage can.

"My turn!" Mia says, reaching into the jaw and pulling out a green post-it shaped like a t-rex. It is one of Will's suggestions. "'Ruth but call her Ruthie'," she reads. They all raise their hands and Chris adds 'Ruth' to his list before they continue on.

*

It's months later and the due date is no longer some far off idea. It's three days away.

Which means Mia could go into labor at anytime.

Which means she's exhausted and uncomfortable and irritable.

Which also means that her mother is in town and is asleep in the guest room.

They'd elected for a home birth, not wanting to have to deal with hospital rules about how many people could be in the room when their baby was born.

Getting the nursery/birthing room together has been Will's project. They'd built an add-on to their house back when they started trying to get pregnant, a large sunroom on the first floor that would be a playroom and the nursery on top of it. Mia had been forbidden from going in once it was built until Will was finished. She'd rolled her eyes every time he held up a paint swatch for her opinion but she didn't argue with him. It's his gift to her and she doesn't want to ruin it.

Mia is laying on a bed with a mountain of pillows supporting her back as Darren massages her swollen ankles and Chris lies beside her, playing Words With Friends on his tablet with Hannah.

Will comes in smiling, practically bouncing on the balls of his feet.

"You look like an elf. A little gay elf," Mia says, yawning. The baby is doing it's usual Jane Fonda workout routine on her spine and she's trying her best not to poke it to make it stop.

"I'm a pansexual elf, thank you very much," he says, his smile never faltering as he leans over to kiss her lips. "The room is ready. Do you want to see it?"

They all help her up and Will covers her eyes with his hands as they walk down the hallway and into the room. She can hear Darren and Chris gasp and coo as they enter and before Will pulls his hands away to let her see.

The first thing she notices is the bed. It's a queen sized bed, much smaller than the kings in their bedrooms but perfect for sharing should they decide to do that or in case the baby gets sick and someone needs to sleep nearby. It's been outfitted with green bedding that goes with the soft gray walls and warm oak floors and mahogany furniture. There is a beautiful rocker by the window and a gorgeous crib with green sheets.

But the highlight of the room is the mural on the ceiling. It's a painting of a nebula that features every color imaginable. She walks to the center of the room, staring up at it in awe. And in awe of Will. He's done all this with very little input and it's perfect. The low bookshelf that lines the entire length of one wall, the soft throw rugs by the bed and crib, the artwork on the wall. It's perfect and--

Mia takes a sharp breath as a spasm pinches her back. She rubs the small of her back and opens her eyes to the boys watching her. "Braxton-Hicks. I've been getting them on and off all day. I'm fine."

They all relax and set about exploring the room. Chris goes to the crib and Darren sits at one of the bookshelves, looking over the titles. Mia beckons Will close and wraps her arms around him as best she can with her huge belly. She tilts her head up and kisses him.

"Thank you, Will." He smiles against her lips, running his fingers through her hair.

"You're welcome, honey. It was the least I could do. I mean, you're making people." She laughs and hugs him before crying out, nails digging into the skin of his arms. They both wince and he pulls away to look at her. "Mia?"

She looks up at him and takes stock of how she's feeling. She's been aching all day and the Braxton-Hicks contractions have been more frequent, but nothing out of the ordinary. Except her underwear is definitely wet.

"I--I think I'm in labor."

*

It's not until the following afternoon when the baby finally comes. With Darren behind her supporting her back, Will and Chris each holding a leg, and her mother holding her hand, she finally pushes out their baby.

And she's perfect even though she looks incredibly gross. The sound of her first cry is the most beautiful thing any of them have ever heard. The midwife lets her mother cut the cord before cleaning her up and suctioning out her lungs and laying her on Mia's bare skin.

"She's perfect, baby," her mother grins, brushing Mia's damp hair off her forehead as she lays back against the pillows. Chris, Darren, and Will are all watching her, completely in love with her and the little girl in her arms.

*

"She needs a name, you know," Chris says, cuddling up beside Mia as she nurses the baby.

It's been a week since their daughter had been born and they are all disgusting and tired but blissful. Darren's passed out on the floor and Will just went downstairs to pay the pizza guy. Mia's mom had to go home because of an emergency at work but they all felt confident in their abilities to care for their baby.

"I know," Mia sighs as the baby wraps her hand around her finger and gives it an impossibly tight squeeze. "She's just so perfect. What name is perfect enough for her?" Chris smirks and reaches for the binder on the nightstand, opening it to the list of names and beginning to read through them. Mia hums noncommittally as he speaks, far more interested in the little angel in her arms than what her name would be. "Sweetheart, put the book away and just cuddle with me and our daughter?"

Chris nods, puts the binder aside and wraps an arm around Mia, his fingers tracing little patterns over the baby's smooth skin.

They'll figure out a name later. For now, they just need to cherish these precious moments together.

*

It’s Chris who winds up naming her, though he’ll never admit to it. His anglophilia has led to him subscribing to British magazines and tabloids. They’re everywhere, the living room, the kitchen, the bathroom. It’s kind of a joke that if they can’t find Chris, just follow the trail of trashy English rags and you’ll find him.

He’s lounging on the bed in the nursery with Mia and Will. Will’s holding her, rubbing soft circles on her back to try and calm her after a crying jag. Mia’s dozed off, tucked under Chris’ arm as he flips through a new issue.

“What’re the royals up to this week?” Will asks, slipping a binky into the baby’s mouth and humming softly.

Chris flipped a page. “Kate and William are scouting nursery schools for George. Harry and Cressida are on vacation in South Africa. And His Majesty and Lady Camilla are spending the month in Scotland. Nothing big.”

The baby wriggles, spitting out her pacifier with such force that hits Mia’s arm. She wakes with a start, sitting up and brushing her hair from her face. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to fall asleep--”

“It’s okay, go back to sleep.” Will chuckles. “Darren went to go pick up dinner, he’ll be back in about half an hour.”

She lays down and looks up at her daughter, nestled against Will’s shoulder. “How’s she doing?”

“She’s fine. Quiet now, but I don’t think she likes the binky. Papa Chris is ignoring us in favor of Pippa and her entourage,” he teases, kissing the baby’s soft hair.

Mia giggles as Chris rolls his eyes at Will. “I’m catching up on my reading. I’m--looking for baby names,” he lies.

“Oh, really? You want to name our daughter Kate, in honor of the future Queen? Or Cressida?”

“No. Not that anything is wrong with Kate. Katie could be cute,” he says, putting his magazine aside and reaching over Mia to brush his fingers over the little girl’s impossibly smooth skin. “Not Cressida. And Camilla...” he trails off, considering it.

“Camilla…” Mia repeats thoughtfully. “Cammie--Milly... Milly.” The three of them look at each other and then at the baby. Milly. Maybe. “What’s it mean? Look it up.”

Chris pulls out his phone and does a quick search. “A bunch of different meanings,” he answers, clicking from one link to another. “Free-born, noble, altar server, perfect…”

Mia scoots up and looks at the precious baby in Will’s arms. Her clear blue eyes stare past Mia to the padded headboard behind her. They’d all taken one look at her eyes and instantly thought that Chris was her biological father until the midwife told them that most babies have blue eyes until they are at least six months old. She has a dusting of soft hair on top her head that could be brown, could be blonde. It is too thin to tell yet.

“Camilla… Milly,” Mia coos at her, slipping a finger into her tiny hand. Where her eyebrows will be arches up and she gurgles. “Milly.” She gurgles again.

Chris crawls gingerly over Mia’s lets and settles between her and Will, facing them, placing a hand on her back. “Milly?”

She bobs her head around. Will protects her head and neck with his hand and shifts her so they can all look at her face. “Camilla…”

She blinks at him and smiles. It’s gas. It’s totally gas. But she smiles. And farts.

“Definitely Darren’s daughter,” Chris says jokingly, but still grinning down at her. She flails her little hands in the air as if to shoo them all out of her face. “Okay, maybe mine.”

That’s how Darren finds them, cuddled up together, studying her odd expressions and laughing at each yawn and spit bubble. It’s a beautiful picture, the three people he’s in love with gathered around their baby girl.

“Take out is in the kitchen, guys,” he tells them, leaning over to look at the baby.

“First, we have to take a vote,” Will says, offering the baby to him. Darren takes her, adjusting the blanket that’s wrapped around her legs as he cradles her.

“On what?” he asks.

“A name.” Mia kneels up and kisses him.

“You thought of a name?” They’d been tossing names around for the last four days; of course they'd come up with one when he was out of the house. “What is it?”

“Chris thought of it, it’s--”

“I did not! I said it and you were all ‘Oh, that’s nice!’ and nicknaming her--”

“You totally paused!”

“Guys, what’s the name?” he asks, gently bouncing their daughter.

“Camilla,” Will says, standing up and looking down at her.

“Milly,” Mia adds.

Darren watches the baby. “Milly…” he says softly. She has Mia’s adorable little nose. “Milly.”

“Shall we take a vote?” Chris asks. Darren nods. “And it has to be unanimous, remember.”

“All in favor of ‘Camilla’, ‘Milly’ for short, say ‘aye’.” Will raises his hand, followed by Mia and Chris. They wait for Darren, staring at him expectantly.

Except Darren hasn’t taken his eyes off the tiny baby. Every moment he looks at her he falls a little more in love with her. Her sweet lips, her faint lashes, the wrinkling of her nose when her jaw drops. So many options are in front of her and she’s completely oblivious to how much potential she has. Maybe that’s why he’s always liked kids. They have no idea what they are capable of doing or what they aren’t able to do. If a little kid wants to fly, they tie a towel around their neck and fly.

It’s a name, just a name. A thing to call her. But as he watches his daughter wriggle in his arms, he can’t imagine calling her anything else. He pictures teaching her how to perfect her “m”'s in a few years. Of writing it on her lunch box.

Milly. Silly Milly. Milly Milly Bo Billy.

Tears begin to well up in his eyes and he sniffles, tearing his eyes away from the baby he holds. “Aye.”

*

As a sign of solidarity, the boys abstain from sex until Mia gets the go ahead from her doctor. But those six weeks are tough. Milly is an absolute delight and they all fall more and more in love with her each day, but some days they feel the loss of that constant intimacy very keenly--Will and Darren especially are incredibly tactile, have a difficult time separating platonic closeness from sexual closeness. Chris knows what it’s like to want distance, so it’s easier for him, and even easier to lose himself in their daughter.

They'd decided as soon as the baby was born that they’d wait for Mia to not only get approval from the doctor, but for her to come to them after, when she was one hundred percent recovered and in the right mood.

Darren’s parents take Milly one morning and they all get excited that maybe today will be the day--but then work calls and even though Mia’s on maternity leave she has to take it because it’s in regards to something that she had been almost completely in charge of before she’d left and they need her input.

The doors to her office close and Darren pouts at Will, who is standing with him in the kitchen, arms around his waist, as they shovel toast into their mouths and wait for Chris to wake up.

“The battle rages on,” Darren says in a put on accent and Will smirks, nudging their hips together.

“We promised,” he reminds Darren.

“Yeah, but you’re so hot first thing in the morning, it’s not fair,” Darren replies, the accent bleeding into a whine as he tugs Will by his hips back against his chest. He nuzzles his mouth against the back of Will’s neck. “Mm, come here.”

“Darren,” Will groans, swallowing his mouthful of toast.

“Miss you,” Darren says, scraping his fingernails down Will’s long, gorgeous torso, tucking them into the waistband of Will’s sweatpants. “Miss having you for breakfast instead of crappy toast.”

Will grins despite himself, turning in Darren’s arms and kissing him. Kissing is okay. Kissing isn’t against the rules, right? Of course, the minute he starts kissing Darren his head goes dizzy and his cock stiffens and before he can call halt they’re making out against the refrigerator like teenagers, hands under each other’s shirts and cocks hard against each other’s hips.

“I would blow you right here,” Will rasps, sucking Darren’s throat hungrily.

“Fuck,” Darren hisses, hand going down the back of Will’s pants. He grips a handful of buttock and hauls their pelvises together. “Want you so bad.”

Chris walks through the kitchen in boxers and a t-shirt, glasses perched on the edge of his nose and a tablet in his left hand. “I thought we were embracing the beauty of chastity vows?”

Will takes his hand out of Darren’s underwear and sighs. “Shit.”

Darren groans. “She’s home. We could totally charge in now.”

Chris eyes him over the fruit bowl, peeling a banana with his free hand. “You know, we did make that promise to each other. Mia doesn’t mind if we take care of each other while she recovers.”

“Still, we did make it,” Will says, hands still on Darren’s hips. He’s not willing to let him go yet. They both watch Chris’ fingers wrap around the base of the banana and bring it to his lips. The sight of Chris with his mouth around something is just too much for Will.

“I need to take a shower,” he blurts out, pulling away from Darren and practically sprinting out of the kitchen.

“I’m just gonna…” Darren trails off, stumbling toward his music room, leaving Chris alone in the kitchen.

Mia’s next doctor’s appointment couldn’t come soon enough.

That night, Mia watches Chris and Will clean up dinner. She’s at the island, doodling in a notebook as Darren walks around the kitchen, rocking Milly with each step.

“Did you have a fun day with your Lola and Pop Pop?” he says in a singsong voice. Milly is much more responsive now at seven weeks. She makes eye contact and a real smile is only days away. But the best thing are the little noises she makes. Tiny huffs, little squeals, they are all adorable and give them a hint of what her personality is going to be. She purrs, actually purrs at Darren before hiding her face in his neck.

“I think she’s sleepy,” Mia says, smiling at them.

Will’s fingers skim over Chris’ hip. During dinner, Darren had kept a hand on her thigh and Chris had kept twisting his napkin in his hands. The energy between them is thick and charged and it’s impossible to ignore. When Will eyefucks Darren so hard that she wants to take Milly from him, she clears her throat.

“Everything okay, boys?”

“What?”

“Yes.”

“I mean--”

“Everything’s fine.”

“Wonderful.”

“Couldn’t be better.”

Mia raised an eyebrow skeptically at them. She has been antsy the last couple of days, especially after her doctor gave her the all clear last week with the provision that she take it easy. Now that they knew Milly’s rhythms and had her on a schedule (she slept about six hours a night and took two decent naps during the day) her mind started drifting toward certain activities that have been on hold for what feels like forever now.

Never in her life did she expect that the sexiest thing a man could say to her would be “I’ll take care of the poopy diaper, you go make the tea.”

She’d practically mounted Chris when he’d said that. Maybe it is time.

There is no way that she could be oblivious to how they've been looking at her all day.

“I could,” she says, slowly, deliberately, “put her down for the night.”

Chris clears his throat.

Will tenses.

Darren grins like an idiot.

“I’ll just go do that,” Mia says, trying her damnedest not to smirk as she takes Milly and swishes her hips all the way out of the room.

“Dibs on first go around,” Darren shouts, and takes off for the bedroom, Will chasing him with a yelp, and Chris just smirks and switches off the kitchen light before following.

If this is a glimpse of the rest of their forever, none of them can imagine a single complaint.


End file.
